


Fernflower

by zetsubooty



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magic, Anal Sex, Double Penetration, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sex Pollen, Threesome - M/M/M, but I tried to make it less skeevy? still gonna tag it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-23
Updated: 2017-06-23
Packaged: 2018-11-18 00:10:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11279670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zetsubooty/pseuds/zetsubooty
Summary: They say a fernflower will bloom red for just a few hours on Midsummer's Eve.Lovers go seeking this rare bloom, and any who do will find good fortune. Perhaps it grants wishes, or perhaps it has wishes of its own.





	Fernflower

**Author's Note:**

> ok so there was that MND official art and THEN bon drew THIS https://twitter.com/shibonART/status/875101269463101445  
> and honestly wtf was I supposed to do?? NOT write tenuously-related porn that starts with lots of squishy feels and pretty landscapes?
> 
> Happy summer solstice??

It took a long time before Yuuri realised he’d never seen Victor relaxed before Hasetsu.

Even though he sees a lot more of that side of him now, he still drinks it in like something rare and beautiful. Because it is, from the tiny smile blossoming on his lips to the loose way he hooks one foot behind the other ankle as he leans on the bridge’s railing and looks out over the ornamental pond.

_ I’m glad I told him I didn’t want to just stay in today. _

He slides his hands closer to Victor’s elbow on the railing, still a bit shy of initiating contact in public. But it’s okay, it’s okay if that’s how he is, because Victor’s hand reaches for his and draws it over to rest on the curve of his forearm, warm under his sleeve.

Abruptly, Victor grabs him around the waist, yanking him closer and planting an almost unpleasantly firm kiss on his cheek and startling a soft laugh out of Yuuri. This side, too, is new, though he’d seen the plastic version on camera many times. Victor that’s playful, Victor that’s hiding his face against Yuuri’s cheek as if he truly had any shame, Victor whose fingers slip up under the hem of Yuuri’s light spring jacket, teasing, ticklish, squishing into his side and gone.

“Yuuri, you are the most beautiful flower here.”

“We’ve been here for hours, and  _ that’s _ the best line you can come up with?” He still flushes even hotter than he already had been.

Victor gives him a softer kiss on the temple, laughter sparking in his voice. “See, I’ve been so overwhelmed by your handsome grace amongst all this natural beauty, I haven’t been able to think of--”

“You’re just mashing flattering words together now.” Inside the half-circle of Victor’s arm he’s warm and content, turning his head slightly so Victor’s lips brush his forehead.

“Am not.” Victor nuzzles against him. “Is it working? Are you seduced?”

Yuuri tips his head back to look at him, all too conscious of the fingers once against stealing up under his jacket. “Is that your roundabout way of saying you want to go home?”

More than any touch or sweet words, it’s the way Victor softens at that simple turn of phrase that leaves him burning. That he could render this man so… _ happy _ , simply happy, just with a few words that barely imply all their shared promises…

Victor turns to him fully, pulling Yuuri flush against him, both arms around him now. “Yeah. I do.” As if Yuuri needed any confirmation of where his thoughts had gone, Victor finds his right hand and draws it up to his lips.

They cross the bridge and walk back through the trees and flowering shrubs with midsummer sunlight dappling the plush grass blanketing the ground. It looks soft and appealing and he has the brief thought to suggest they extend their visit a little longer and lay down for a while. Except that instead of some idyllic nap scene, he’s imagining being pushed down into the yielding grass by Victor’s weight in his lap, imagining fingers of sunlight brushing over his bare shoulders and chest and through his silvery hair. Yuuri swallows heavily.

“Just what are  _ you  _ thinking about?” Victor’s voice is low, close to his ear, and the tip of his nose brushes against him.

Before he can over-think, Yuuri turns quickly to catch Victor’s lips, gripping the front of his shirt. He has the unnerving feeling they’re being watched but decides to ignore it and focus only on the lush squish of their lips and the eager way Victor wraps his arm around him.

“Wow, if I’d know taking you to a park would get you all riled up, I’d have done it--”

Yuuri swats at his shoulder. “ _ You _ were the one who put… _ weird _ ideas in my head!”

“Did I?” Victor kisses him again quickly. “I…oh!”

Before Yuuri can catch his breath, Victor’s bounding off under the trees. Yuuri stares after him for an exasperated second before starting to follow, but he hasn’t strayed far off the path before Victor comes back. Holding a red flower.

“I’ve never seen a red one of these before…” His brows pull together quizzically for a second before he breaks into a wide smile and tucks the small flower behind Yuuri’s ear. “There. Beautiful.”

“Are you allowed to pick the flowers?” He can feel the short stem between his glasses and his skin, ticklish in his hair. “What is it?”

“Don’t know.” Victor shrugs, turning and taking Yuuri’s hand to pull him back down the path. “Not notable enough for them to label, so I’m sure they won’t mind.”

Yuuri sighs fondly, twining their fingers together. He can’t feel that prickle of  _ watching _ anymore, after all, and he’s sure it’ll be fine.

He manages to leave the flower there for the whole trip home, even when some teens clearly recognise them on the metro and not-so-subtly snap photos. He should be used to it, but it leaves him feeling flushed and agitated. Or not quite agitated, but something that makes him step a little closer to Victor and slip his arm around his waist.

But he forgets it all instantly when Victor crowds him up against the wall beside the front door with one shoe still on and kisses him like the sun is exploding.

“I don’t like going out,” he complains, tugging at Yuuri’s jacket, “you wear too many clothes.”

Before Yuuri can catch his breath or think of a response, there’s a paw on his arm and Makkachin gives both of them enthusiastic licks.

Victor chuckles, disengaging Makkachin and crouching down. He gives him a good scrub behind the ears and then holds him gently. “Now, now, we’re happy to see you too, but sometimes your daddies need a little private time. You understand, of course?”

Makkachin bonks his nose against Victor’s face before padding away to the living room with something that sounds suspiciously like a put-upon sigh.

Yuuri’s soft laugh is interrupted when Victor turns back to him, fingers hooking heavily on the waistband of his jeans. He’s still overwhelmed by this, by the fire in Victor’s eyes as he squashes his lips to Yuuri’s fly, by his own fingers carding through Victor’s hair and pulling him against him. Victor groans, dragging one hand down to squeeze Yuuri’s growing erection, his other hand petting down Yuuri’s thigh heavily.

“Victor…bedroom…please…” He says that, but his fingers only tighten in Victor’s hair, hips twitching eagerly. As if it had been held back all afternoon, arousal cascades through him almost alarmingly, and he can feel it in Victor too, some heat that begs to be quenched over and over but threatens to come back hungrier each time.

They fumble together to undo his jeans, Victor peeling them down his thighs and kissing his dick through his underwear. Yuuri stifles a moan, pushing into the contact and desperately hoping no one happened to be passing by in the hallway just then. His pants are around his ankles, underwear too, and he kicks out of them shakily, humming a soft objection when Victor falls back. But he cups a hand behind Yuuri’s thigh, drawing him along as he unfurls onto the floor.

Yuuri wants to stay standing and admire the way Victor’s chest heaves and his erection presses against the front of his pants, but he can’t resist. He falls like he’s in a dream, knees either side of Victor’s head and Victor’s arms curling around his thighs and hands grabbing just above his ass. He still has his glasses on, though they’re pretty spectacularly smudged, and it somehow makes him feel that much more naked as he slides his dick between Victor’s ready lips.

They move in concert in a way he never would’ve believed even a year before, his hips rolling forwards and Victor drawing him in with his head lifting off the floor until he’s almost swallowed Yuuri down to the base. Yuuri leans heavily on one hand and combs fingers back through Victor’s hair with the other, cupping his head to support him and maybe a little bit to hold him in place because he’s greedy, so greedy right now for sensation and for the way Victor moans around his cock like he’s getting off on this just as much.

Needing to know, to feel, Yuuri flings himself upright, twisting so he can eye Victor’s crotch, perhaps get a hand on him.

And then freezes.

Slowly, he turns back, turns to look into the open door of their bedroom, the unmade bed bathed in early evening light.

And upon it, Victor.

He lounges on his stomach, feet waving lazily in the air and chin resting on the back of his hands, and appears to be watching them with blatantly prurient interest. As far as Yuuri can tell, the only thing he’s got on is a crown of red blossoms wound into his hair. The second he notices Yuuri looking at him, he lights up, waving enthusiastically.

Yuuri glances down quickly, deeply relieved to see that yes, the person presently avidly sucking him off is still Victor. He looks back up. Also still Victor on the bed, now lolling on his back with one leg bent up so the thigh presses coyly against his erect cock, his hair draping off the side in a silver waterfall and dropping a few red blooms to the floor. It’s only then that Yuuri registers fully that this isn’t Victor as he is  _ now _ , is Victor as he’d been not long before he’d cut his hair. It does absolutely nothing to explain what the hell’s happening, though.

Yuuri taps Victor-- _ his _ Victor, he thinks--frantically on the shoulder. “Victor!” He sits back gracelessly, insistently pulling at Victor’s shirt to get him to sit up too.

“What…?” Victor reluctantly sits up, trying to pull Yuuri into a kiss. It’s so hard to resist, but he forces himself to keep him away, pointing insistently back at the bedroom. When Victor finally turns and looks, Yuuri half-expects him to say  _ oh that’s just my secret twin brother _ or something. Hopes for it, because it would mean  _ someone _ knew what the hell was going on. But Victor just gapes.

Victor-on-the-bed blows them a kiss.

Victor-still-mostly-underneath-him grabs his ass.

Yuuri squeaks, giving him a slightly horrified look.

Victor shrugs, pulling a mock-innocent face. “ _ He’s _ not bothered; why’d you stop us?”

“Yeah, don’t stop on my account.” Bed!Victor has rolled back on his front, leaving most of the bed unoccupied. He pats it, waggling his eyebrows.

“See?” Victor cranes over his shoulder to look at this other him. “What  _ are _ you, anyway? Are we hallucinating?”

“Nope, quite real. Also quite magical. Don’t worry about it.” He pushes himself up into a kneeling position, a thoughtful frown lingering on his face a moment before being replaced with a disarming smile. “Call me…Vitya.”

“The hell do you mean, ‘don’t worry about it’?” Yuuri edges back on his hands, seriously wishing he still had his pants on. “His weird double shows up naked on our bed, and you expect us to just--”

Vitya cocks his head with a familiarly innocent little pout. “So much fuss, when  _ you’re _ the one that conjured me into being. Or at least,” he rises up on his knees, spreading his arms gracefully to indicate his body, “in this form.”

Yuuri stares at him in horror to avoid looking at Victor, who he can see in his peripheral vision has his lips pressed together like he’s trying not to laugh while his eyebrows attempt the herculean task of reaching his hairline.

“I…what??”

“I grant wishes. Kind of my thing.” Vitya looks awfully proud of himself. “The sexy kind are more fun, but I could always grant you the ability to talk to animals if you’d really rather… I’m sure Makkachin has some fascinating opinions on buns.”

Which calls Yuuri’s attention to the fact that Makkachin hasn’t come to investigate this stranger. He’s not sure whether that’s comforting or frightening.

On a similar note, he  _ really _ wishes his dick would realise how off-putting this situation is and calm down. Or at least he was covered up.

“Wait, so your fantasy is  _ younger _ me?” Victor pulls a pout that’s only half-joking. “I can’t believe this, I have  _ never _ been so insulted in my--”

“No,  _ I  _ just liked this iteration better. I could always change…”

Victor waves dismissively. “Oh no, like this is perfectly fine! I missed the long hair…”

Shakily, Yuuri starts to get his feet under him. “Anyone mind if I put my pants back on?”

Together, both Victors whirl on him with a resounding, “Yes!”

His Victor scootches forward, gathering him against himself and pressing a soft kiss to his chest. “Yuuuuuuuri… It’s barely even like there’s another person here… Don’t you want to keep going…?”

Yuuri’s dick just brushes the fine cotton of Victor’s shirt; Victor presses against him for firmer contact, nuzzling his way up under his jaw. And like this, like this, with his eyes closed and Victor’s lips on his neck and his hand stealing down Yuuri’s side, closer and closer to his bare hip, like this… He can’t even quite remember what had been so objectionable a moment before. He breathes out a soft, needy noise, hips curving forward as he pulls up the back of Victor’s shirt.

“I can’t see!”

Yuuri’s eyes fly open, staring up at the ceiling because Victor’s fingers have finally found his cock and he doesn’t think he could  _ possibly  _ look at that…that other…

Victor’s tongue unfurls against the hollow of his throat as Vitya steps into view.

And he’s burning, he’s burning, because he  _ does _ want it in a way that leaves him gasping and fucking into Victor’s fist and all too conscious that his face, his mouth, is level with Vitya’s dick.

But then Victor’s falling back and leaving him bereft and horrendously exposed. Victor lounges back against his double’s legs, one arm tracing a graceful arc up to his hip. “Sorry, Yuuri takes a while to warm up to people. But then again,” his head lolls back against Vitya’s thigh, Vitya cupping the back of his head, “perhaps we could be more persuasive together.”

Vitya smiles down sweetly before dropping to the ground behind Victor. His arms encircle his chest, one elegant finger brushing over a nipple. Yuuri can only watch raptly as Vitya leans over Victor’s shoulder, hair draping down like a fragrant curtain. Their lips meet with barely a sound until there’s a soft huff of air from Victor, his fingers sliding into Vitya’s hair. It’s entrancing, the face he knows so well, the face he’s felt against his own, making those same expressions but now in loose parallel, a counterpoint of sighs.

Victor yanks on Vitya’s hair in a flurry of movement that ends with Vitya on the ground with Victor’s forearm pressed against his throat.

Victor’s voice is perfectly level and chatty. “You’ve enchanted us somehow, right? Release it and let him make his own decision.”

Vitya struggles initially, but when Victor speaks, he settles, considering for a second before nodding once. “I suppose that’s fair. Though it’ll be a  _ lot _ more fun if I leave it, trust me.”

Without fanfare, Yuuri suddenly feels the… _ whatever _ lift. Leaving him blinking between Vitya, all wide entreating eyes, and Victor, coolly focused on his captive.

It’s almost a worse kind of pressure, he’s very nearly pissed off at Victor for this display of gallantry. It would be so much easier to be giving in to that siren song than to sit here with no pants on and have to admit aloud that yes, he very much wants to be the filling in a Nikiforov sandwich.

He can’t look at either of them now, though excitement is edging into his mortification. “Victor…I… It’s okay.”

“What, really?” Victor seems instantly more intrigued by Yuuri than holding down his double. “I didn’t expect you’d--”

Yuuri covers his face. “Can we not talk about this any more than is necessary?”

“I agree!” Vitya chimes in. “Less talking, more sucking face.”

Hands close on his wrists, not pulling them away but just resting there as Victor chastely smooches the backs of his fingers. “No more talking, then. But let’s…” A rustle as he gets to his feet, urging Yuuri along with him.

They approach the bedroom hand-in-hand, Vitya almost skipping ahead of them and then turning back with familiar mischief in his eyes. Yuuri drops his glasses on the dresser and then lets Victor draw him to the side of the bed, bringing him in front of himself with one arm around his waist as though he were leading him in a dance from behind. A thought that leaves Yuuri shivery-hot and shy of meeting Vitya’s sharp gaze.

He’s expecting indelicacy, overeagerness. Maybe a little bit hoping for it. But Vitya simply noses against his cheek, hands resting lightly on his upper arms. His breath smells of sweet hay and the fragrance of the small red flowers wafts over Yuuri like a wave and then recedes, Vitya tipping his head away slightly.

Yuuri follows him, speaking softly against his skin. “Why us?”

“Why not?” Vitya pulls away, giving him another keen look. “I have only one purpose, and I must choose well. I opened my eyes for the first time and I saw many people that didn’t interest me. And then I saw the two of you.  _ You _ interested me.”

Victor remains almost uncharacteristically silent, though he’s stroking up and down Yuuri’s waist with restrained thirst.

Vitya’s close again, lips brushing the corner of Yuuri’s mouth. “The two of you are beautiful. I want to be part of something beautiful before I disappear. That’s not hard to understand, is it?”

Easier perhaps than this being can imagine. That impetus to mould his body into Victor’s shadow, to capture some small piece of his perfection and keep it for his own. Yuuri cups Vitya’s face gently.

“Don’t hold back, then. Make this as beautiful as you like.” His cheeks burn at the flowery words, and at the (incredibly oblique) permission they give. But before he can stew over it, Vitya kisses him like a sudden summer breeze, thick with the scent of flowers and something hotter and more vitally human. And this time, Yuuri takes it in willingly, flings himself into this with his arms winding around Vitya’s neck.

Victor tightens his arm around him, pressing up against Yuuri’s back with his lips pressing soft against his nape. Yuuri’s mouth opens on a hungry hum of noise, Vitya sucking his lower lip between his own. He can feel Victor’s hard-on pressing against his ass from the confines of his pants, and the head of Vitya’s cock brushes against his stomach, leaving a faint wetness that sends a fresh wave of heat through him. Yuuri fumbles a hand down between them, Victor’s hand bumping, holding his for a brief moment before reaching to pull Vitya’s hips closer while Yuuri angles their dicks up.

That done, Yuuri gropes behind him for Victor’s fly. But it’s hard to focus with Vitya’s tongue in his mouth and their dicks squashed between their stomachs and against each other and Victor catching his earlobe between his teeth and batting his hand away impatiently and then a moment later, Yuuri feels bare skin. Victor makes his dick slide up along his ass, then pulls back for a second, this time slipping under, pushing between his thighs. Yuuri arches, breaking away from Vitya in an inarticulate demand for a kiss that Victor meets eagerly, awkward and too much teeth and so perfectly unsatisfying it hurts. Vitya kisses the edge of his jaw, fingers edging his shirt up until Yuuri gathers the focus to raise his arms and let him pull it free.

There’s so much heat already between their bodies, skin slipping under his fingers and against his lips and sticky-soft when he fucks against Vitya. Victor pants against his shoulder, blatantly looking down the other two bodies as he gropes Yuuri’s hips. He wedges his hand between them, wrapping it loosely around both dicks, so cramped and it shouldn’t feel so good but it leaves Yuuri squirming and catching at Victor’s side, his hip, anything to somehow pull him closer.

It’s just enough to throw off their precarious balance. Victor manages to grab Yuuri around the waist and keep him upright, but Vitya falls back on the bed as if it were part of the most carefully constructed choreography, landing with his hair fanned around his shoulders and one leg pulled up toward his chest.

He stretches luxuriantly, arms curled around his head and a self-satisfied smile on his lips. “Well?”

Both of them stand silent for a second. Then Victor plants both palms on the small of Yuuri’s back and shoves.

Yuuri barely catches himself, left face-to-face with a delighted Vitya who immediately winds his arms around his neck and kisses him, leg wrapping around Yuuri’s hip. He can hear Victor rustling around and he’s a little curious but all he wants to do is fuck against Vitya’s sweaty skin.

A kiss pressed between his shoulderblades and cool plastic tucked into his hand. “Yuuri,” Victor murmurs against his skin, his bangs sliding ticklish-soft as he nuzzles his back. Yuuri feels his hand on his ass, followed by a cool smear of liquid. Victor’s fingers curl around his on the lube bottle, drawing his hand down. Yuuri breaks off the kiss with Vitya, burying his face against his shoulder, but Vitya has no embarrassed reservations, hoisting his leg a little higher on Yuuri’s hip and urging their hands down faster. It takes some fumbling to get the lube open but they manage, and then Yuuri’s pressing his toes against the hardwood floor and sliding gooey fingers up to find Vitya’s hole.

They’re all impatient, but Vitya is the first to tug his fingers away, pushing him up so he can hook one leg over Yuuri’s shoulder. Victor stills with two fingers spreading Yuuri’s ass and seems to watch them as Yuuri wraps a lube-covered hand around his dick and brings it to press against Vitya’s hole. Yuuri bites his lip, starting to push inside, then wrestles Vitya’s other leg onto his shoulder. In, in, and bright heat around his dick and Vitya humming a rich noise under him and burying a hand in his hair. Victor starts fucking him on his fingers again, slowly, slowly, other hand squeezing his ass and then reaching down, down, to drag a finger up the underside of his cock, what little of it that’s still accessible.

“Beautiful,” Victor breathes, curling finger and thumb around the base of Yuuri’s cock for a second and then squeezing Vitya’s ass.

It burns Yuuri up more than he expected, having Victor’s hand down between his thighs while he buries himself inside another. Eyes squeezed shut, he tips his head forward, brushing against Vitya’s chest. “Victor…please…” His voice is embarrassingly tight; Vitya strokes his face comfortingly.

Victor leans his weight on him, wrapping him in a hug that encompasses Vitya’s thighs and all the messy feelings and desires roiling in Yuuri’s chest. Yuuri arches back against him, pulling out of Vitya a little way before sinking back in with a smothered moan.

Victor seems unwilling to relinquish the contact, leaning heavily on him with his lips a damp smear on Yuuri’s shoulderblade as he messes around with his dick. And then the head is pushing against Yuuri’s hole, sliding inside with aching slowness and Victor’s hand squeezing his hip convulsively and that almost feels best of all, this still-fresh revelation that he can make the man he’s admired so long shaky and overcome.

Yuuri doesn’t have good purchase on the floor, but even just rocking his hips is delicious. He curls an arm around Vitya’s thigh, finally lifting his head to look at him. Vitya’s eyes are heavy-lidded but he perks up when he notices Yuuri looking at him, gracing him with a sweet smile that should feel out of place here but is so utterly familiar and beloved and Yuuri has to hide again, reaching back blindly for Victor. Fingers lace with his own, steadying, bringing him back to brace his hand on the bed but instead of sheet, he finds another palm.

With a moan, Victor pushes all the way home, pinning Yuuri between sensations beautifully. Yuuri slits open his eyes again, and this time Vitya doesn’t give him time to get embarrassed, curves up to capture his lips with a pleased little chuckle. Victor’s picking up speed, driving him deeper into Vitya when their rhythm syncs. Yuuri groans into Vitya’s mouth, squeezing his hand. His heels lift, balls of his feet pushing into the floor as he fucks Vitya with his own quickly rising need.

Vitya pulls his thigh out of his grasp, both legs wrapping instead just above Yuuri’s hips, tight, tight, until he barely has space to move. Vitya falls back against the bed with a luxuriant sigh, free arm curling above his head like a halo.

“Yuuri…come for me…”

A moment of disorientation where he’s not sure which of them has spoken but his body is all too responsive. Yuuri drops face-first on Vitya’s chest, jamming his free arm up under his shoulder. With Victor driving into him, he feels almost like he might slip out if not for Vitya’s legs keeping them pressed as close together as possible. He feels Victor mumble something against his back and then push himself upright, releasing Yuuri’s hand to skid his palm down his back, splaying heavily on his spine.

Yuuri freezes, one leg curling up tensely as orgasm crashes into him. Vitya squirms under him, breath coming in uneven gasps, almost as though he were climaxing too though Yuuri feels no warm stickiness between them. Victor’s thrusts are slower, letting Yuuri ride out each shuddering wave.

“Perfect, Yuuri…” Vitya coaxes him up, smiling dreamily, and kisses him over and over in a way that leaves no doubt that, whether he’d come or not, this being is still hungry for more. He wriggles under Yuuri, grabbing at his ass and hips in a distinctly unhelpful way, then finally breaks off the kiss. “Come up here?”

Victor steps back, pulling out, his face a mix of curiousity and amusement that melts to heat when he sees Yuuri looking over his shoulder at him. He steps close again, enfolding Yuuri in a hug and craning around to kiss him luxuriantly. Yuuri reaches for him, feeling off-balance and too full of silky satiation to care. Victor’s dick slides against his ass, one of his hands sliding down the back of his thigh and urging his leg up, towards the bed.

Victor breaks off the kiss, staying close while he glances down at Vitya. “I take it you’d like a turn?”

Vitya giggles into his hand. “There’s no reason why we should have to wait turns. That is, if Yuuri’s…up to it.”

Yuuri’s already kneeling on the bed over Vitya’s hips when it clicks. His cheeks bloom red and he pulls a face. “Is that even possible??”

Victor ducks his head against his shoulder, laughter in his breath. “Have you never watched any porn? It’s like this whole Thing.”

“I… _ have,  _ I just…didn’t realise it was a thing people actually  _ did _ .”

“Well, for all I know, people don’t. Not like I’m some expert on this stuff.”

Yuuri starts to turn and look at Victor but is stopped by an insistent hand on his cheek. Vitya’s giving them a distinctly sulky look. “You guys are very cute, but can we get back to what’s important here?”

Yuuri treats him to a sarcastically polite smile. “I would think the logistics of cramming two dicks in my butt would be of some relevance.”  _ That was…not a sentence I ever expected to come out of my mouth. I kind of wish the ground would swallow me. _

No such luck, but Victor does hug him with a soft chuckle. “Well. Shall we see?” He grabs Yuuri’s ass, pressing a wet kiss to Yuuri’s shoulder.

Yuuri closes his eyes and nods, startled by his faint stir of arousal. He shifts more securely onto the bed, raising himself up a little. He hears the snap of the lube bottle opening, then Victor’s knuckles brush against his ass. Yuuri looks back to see him slowly jacking off Vitya, spreading lube with indulgent swipes of his thumb. Vitya arches under him with a groan, stroking heavily up Yuuri’s thigh to his hip and then cupping his soft dick for a second before dragging back down again.

Yuuri sets his hands on Vitya’s chest, tilting his hips back to feel Victor’s fingers and then the slide of Vitya’s shaft. Victor hums appreciatively, angling Vitya’s dick so Yuuri can rub against it with each gentle roll of his hips. Something cold drips onto his ass, startling and shivery and running down his crack in a way that should not feel so good.

“You look so good, both of you…” Victor’s pushing Vitya’s dick more intentionally against Yuuri’s ass, smearing the lube in between his cheeks.

Abruptly, Vitya dislodges Yuuri’s hands and sits up. “I want to see, too!” He ducks under Yuuri’s arm, trying to get a look and running a serious risk of throwing them both off the bed.

“I don’t think even  _ you’re _ that flexible,” Victor laughs, pushing his palm against Vitya’s forehead until he falls back with a huffy sigh. He props himself up on his elbows, though, clearly watching avidly what he can see between Yuuri’s thighs.

Abruptly, he grabs Yuuri’s hip, jerking him down. “No more playing around! You humans are too easily distracted.”

Yuuri grabs at him to keep his balance, then sucks in a slow breath. “Then  _ lie. Still _ .” He stares down Vitya, reaching down between his legs until he finds his cock. As soon as he starts taking it in past the muscle, he can’t keep up the eye contact, though.

He feels over-sensitised, like every panted breath from Victor rushes through him like a gale. Every tiny rock of his hips pushes Vitya deeper, and the closer his ass gets to his hips, the more certain Yuuri becomes that there is no way anything more could fit in there. But at the same time, anticipation crawls and twists in his stomach. It’s almost a relief when he feels Victor rub lube-covered fingers against the thin skin.

Yuuri tilts his hips a little and then stops. “Should I stay still?”

“Again, how should I know?” Victor’s tone is less testy than his words. “If you’re asking me,  _ I’m  _ enjoying watching you ride him, so…”

Even after all this, Yuuri blushes, but slowly starts moving again. Victor wraps him in a one-arm hug, rubbing around his hole and then encircling Vitya’s dick briefly. Vitya himself shows admirable patience, lying back with his head tipped against the bed, petting Yuuri’s thighs with restrained eagerness, and only the slightest pull of his stomach muscles as he barely, barely pushes into Yuuri.

Victor drops to the floor, one hand still splayed on Yuuri’s stomach, and when Yuuri slides back down on Vitya’s cock, Victor slides one finger in along with it. Yuuri stills, breathing slowly, trying not to tense up.

Victor kisses just next to his tailbone. “Okay?”

“Mm-hm.” He eases down a bit further, sucking in a tiny gasp when Victor flexes his finger to stretch him a little more.

The first finger’s the hardest, but Victor takes it slow. He squashes finger after finger in, and then his thumb, stretching Yuuri enough that Vitya makes a complaining noise. Yuuri’s pretty sure they’ve used half the bottle of lube but he’s not about to complain. Because it means that when he feels the head of Victor’s cock pressing into the space created between forefinger and thumb, he feels slick and warm inside and very ready.

Still, it aches as Victor pushes in, aches, and there’s a moment Yuuri thinks he’s going to bust open somehow. But then with a rough noise, Victor pushes past, wrenching a gasp out of Yuuri. He can’t say it feels good just yet, and he’s just barely too embarrassed to find it hot. But he loves having Victor pressed against him from behind, one arm a warm band across his chest and the other across his stomach.

Nobody moves for a long moment. Then with a soft cry, Vitya reaches up, tugging on one of Victor’s arms. Yuuri gathers him against his chest as much as he can, another tiny gasp torn out of him as Vitya pulls out a little way and thrusts back in.

It’s probably the gentlest fucking he’s ever had, movement measured by millimeters and the slight change in angle of Victor’s hipbones against his ass. Vitya stays curled up, scattering kisses over Yuuri’s skin and pausing only to lean into Victor’s hand in his hair. That sweet perfume wafts up from him, and whether it’s that or that he’s accustomed to this full feeling, Yuuri finds himself pushing back into their thrusts, his breath hitching softly.

It’s only when Victor drags a hand down to squeeze his cock that he realises he’s starting to get hard again.

Yuuri gasps, shaking his head and then hiding against Vitya’s hair. But there’s no escaping; Vitya tips his head up and kisses his chin and asks, “Feels good, mm?”

He can’t respond, just mutely grabs at Victor’s wrist, though whether it’s in encouragement or to stop him, he couldn’t say. Either way, Victor stops, just cupping his cock lightly, and kisses the back of his shoulder.

“You’re certainly…making me want to try…”

It’s not Victor’s words so much as the tight breathiness of his voice that undoes Yuuri. He’s heard it before plenty of times but he can never, never get enough of it. But he also feels a bolt of heat at the thought of sharing Victor in this way, of feeling another filling him up and sliding against his own tender skin in the midst of all that heat and pressure.

He feels like his whole body must be glowing red but he covers Victor’s hand with his own, squeezing gently before breathing into Vitya’s hair, “You can go a bit harder.”

Vitya gasps happily and Victor moans into his shoulder. Yuuri smiles a little smugly, tilting his hips back in mute encouragement. Vitya drops back to the bed, grabbing his hips and eagerly fucking up into him. Victor makes another low noise and snaps his hips forwards, hard enough to leave Yuuri scrambling to brace his palms on Vitya’s ribs. It can’t be comfortable but he has a feeling neither of them will last very long.

And this, this, he loves, drinking in the bright flush across Vitya’s nose and cheekbones, feeling the hungry way Victor paws at his stiffening dick. It fills him with a heady bright pleasure that is irresistible to fling himself into. Yuuri lets his breath catch audibly, shifting his weight to one hand so he can reach back for Victor. Neither of them holds back now, and Yuuri knows he’ll hurt in the morning but here, right now, he flings his head back with a loud moan. Victor cries his name in answer, but he’s not the first one to lock up pushed deep inside. Vitya cries out too, a rough wordless noise, fingers tightening on Yuuri’s hips until he worries they’ll leave bruises. Yuuri can feel his orgasm pulse through and he wonders if Victor can too because only a few more thrusts and then he’s shuddering against Yuuri’s back, teeth clenched to quiet the noise that still tears out of him.

Victor sags against him, still slowly fucking his way through the aftershocks. Vitya drops back with his arms spread, chest heaving. Yuuri admires him, shivering at the sticky feeling inside, then lolls his head back to press against the top of Victor’s head.

Victor starts to lift his head, then thinks better of it. He strokes Yuuri’s dick once, lightly. “W…wow, Yuuri… You’re already ready again…”

Without opening his eyes, Vitya says, “I  _ told _ you it’s more fun with magic,” smiling smugly.

“Sure, but…I need to…” Yuuri attempts to disentangle himself from Victor, edging over on the bed. “Need to lie down for a sec…”

They clamber over each other until they’re laid out comfortably with Victor in the middle, each catching their breath. It hasn’t been long before Victor rolls towards him.

“Yuuuuuuri. How am I supposed to relax when you’re like this?” He skims a hand up Yuuri’s erection.

“Ignore it…?” he responds, as though he wasn’t curving his hips up after the light friction of Victor’s palm.

“Mm-mm, that’s no good!” Vitya drapes himself over Victor’s side, looking more refreshed than anything. He touches a fingertip to the underside of Yuuri’s cock, smiling when it twitches at the contact, then looks down at Victor. “What’re you going to do about it?” he asks chattily.

Victor considers him for a second. Then hauls him down into a kiss. Vitya breathes out a happy little laugh, but just as quickly as he’d pulled him in, Victor pushes him back, sitting up, And then swinging a leg over to straddle Yuuri’s thighs.

“I have a few ideas,” Victor says, wrapping a hand lightly around Yuuri’s dick and then beckoning Vitya in for another kiss.

* * *

 

Yuuri wakes with darkness already long settled over the city, traffic noises a distant oceanic wash. He supposes they must have passed out at some point. He vaguely remembers lying with Vitya’s head pillowed on his chest and feeling distinctly like he was no longer capable of moving. Still feels that way.

But that warmth against his side is gone. He’s not especially bothered, people move around, until his own slow stirrings crush a bunch of cool, soft shapes on the sheet beside him. A now familiar perfume rises like a lingering sigh.

Sadness cuts gently through him, but he’s honestly too tired to have any proper thoughts on the ephemeralness of life right now so he just scooches across the pile of red blossoms and reaches for Victor.

It takes Victor a while to rouse. When he does, he lifts Yuuri’s hand from where it’s draped over his side, kissing his ring lightly, then snuggles back down with Yuuri’s hand clasped against his chest.

“He’s gone?” Yuuri makes a quiet noise of assent; Victor heaves in a deep breath and releases it slowly. “I feel like I should feel bad but all I can think is how much d’you think we’d have to pay to get them to deliver food right to the bedroom?” He thwacks Yuuri’s hand against his chest. “Yuuri, why didn’t we teach Makkachin to go fetch food?”

As if his name were a summons, Makkachin hops up on the bed. He snuffles them, then the pile of flowers, then eventually settles curled against the back of Yuuri’s legs.

“Food can wait a lil longer…” is the last Yuuri hears before he falls back asleep.


End file.
